Kristoff put two fingers to his mouth and blew a piercing whistle that seemed earsplitting in the confined space of the small church.

Two men emerged from what I assumed was a back room. They both eyed me as they came forward, speaking in a language that I didn't understand.

"Do either of you speak English?" I asked sweetly.

"The one on the left is my brother Andreas. The other is my cousin Rowan," Kristoff said, almost smirking at my look of consternation. "They both speak a dozen languages, English included."

My hand itched to slap that look off his face, but I hung on to my temper.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you that your brother is insane?" I asked the man named Andreas. There wasn't a lot of family resemblance, although he, too, was the sort of man who made women stop and stare.

"No more so than any one of us," Andreas answered, then signed the forms.

My heart sank as the second man did the same. The three of them spoke quietly for a few minutes while I contemplated my choices. I'd run for it, except Kristoff retained a hold on my arm, not to mention the fact that I wouldn't stand a chance of outrunning any one of the men present—other than the priest, and even he looked unusually spry for someone his age, laughing at something that the vampire named Rowan said.

That thought struck me oddly, somehow.

"Do you have… you know… fangs?" I asked Kristoff, making a little fangy gesture with my fingers. "Like Dracula fangs?"

The three men all stared at me as if I'd just turned into a giant ice-skating sloth.

"You don't, then? So the whole fang thing is a myth?"

The look of disbelief on Kristoff's face was almost worth the experience of being there.

Rowan burst into laughter. Andreas frowned, saying something in what sounded to me like Italian.

"You know, I'm normally a pretty circumspect person," I told Andreas. "But since I woke up this morning, I've found a murdered woman in my bathroom, run away from the police, been kidnapped by a vampire, and been forced to participate in a pretend wedding, so what inhibitions I normally hold are pretty much gone. I'm sure you'll excuse me if I say that it's very rude to speak in a language that not everyone can understand."

Rowan laughed even harder.

Andreas's frown darkened for a moment, then he suddenly smiled. Although his face wasn't nearly as hard as Kristoff's, his smile was just as chilling. "I told my brother that he should have simply killed you rather than wed you."

"We're not married," I said, crossing my arms over my chest in a show of what I hoped looked like bravado. Surrounded as I was by three tall, extremely handsome bloodsucking fiends, I certainly felt anything but brave, but it wouldn't do to let them know that. "It wasn't a legal ceremony."

The two men looked inquiringly at Kristoff.

He gave me a bitter look. "It was entirely legal."

"It was not! I didn't understand anything that priest said, let alone agree to it! He could have been performing the last rites for all I know!"

"No, but I can arrange for that, if you like," Kristoff said with smooth menace.

I raised my chin. I may not be the bravest of women, but I hate being bullied. "You didn't even kiss me. Weddings always end in a kiss. So there!"

Silence filled the church for a moment before Kristoff made a low noise deep in his chest and yanked me toward him.

"Are you growling at me—?" I just had time to say before he kissed me.

My mind, never the most reliable of organs in times of stress, shut down and left me flailing in Kristoff's arms. This was not the same sort of kiss that Alec had pressed all over me the night before—this was a kiss of aggression, a punishment, an invasion. He didn't even wait for me to invite him in, his tongue was there, inside my mouth, sweeping around as if it owned the place. Not even Alec had kissed me so intimately!

I shoved hard on Kristoff's chest and jerked out of his grip, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "If you ever do that again, so help me god, I'll… I'll… I don't know what I'll do, but you can bet your butt it'll be horrible!"

"The marriage is legal," Kristoff said, shoving one of the signed sheets into my hands. His eyes glowed from within, looking oddly lighter than I remembered them. "Complete with kiss. Tell that to your reaper friends."

I opened my mouth to tell him that they weren't necessarily my friends, but he didn't wait around for me to answer. He just turned on his heel and marched out of the church. I stared in surprise for a few moments before I turned to the other two vamps. They watched me with eyes filled with malice and suspicion.

"He left," I said, too surprised to care that I was stating the obvious.

"If you even think of using your powers against him, I guarantee that you will pay in ways you cannot imagine," Andreas threatened before he, too, marched out.

Rowan said nothing, just gave me a long, hard look, shoved me aside, and left as well.

"Good riddance!" I yelled after them, going to the door to watch as two cars backed out and sped off up the winding road. It was at that moment that I realized I was stranded, alone, without money, identification, or even a clear knowledge of the name of the town in which I'd been dumped. "Hey? Anyone? I don't have a car. Hello?"

I turned back to the clergyman, but he'd disappeared as well, leaving me standing on a windy cliff, outside of a cold, dank little stone church, clutching a marriage certificate that I knew was false… but I had a horrible suspicion no one else would see it that way.

"Married to a vampire," I said out loud, the words whipped away on the wind. "Oh, joy. Now what am I going to do?"

"I don't suppose you know the way to Ostri?"

I turned my head and stared with absolutely no surprise at the translucent figure that stood there. I raised an eyebrow at the spectral horse next to him, but I didn't say one word about the fact that yet another ghost had descended upon me. "I'm afraid I'm new around here. You're… er… dead?"

"As you can see." The man, who was dressed in what looked to be Victorian wear, frowned. "You're the reaper and you don't know where Ostri is?"

"Afraid not, but since I'm evidently now the ghostly information office, I guess I'd better find out. What's your name?"

"Ulfur."

"How do you do? I'm Pia, and yes, I'm the Zorya." I held up my hand. The moonstone had once again converted itself into a small lantern. "But I'm afraid I'm new to the job, and don't know all the ins and outs of the whole thing yet. So you'll have to join the others while you wait for me to figure out what's what."

"Others?" he asked.

"Three other ghosts. They're back in town. I don't suppose you have a magical way of transporting us there?"

He pursed his lips and eyed me curiously.

"No? I didn't think so. Well, I guess we'd better go see if there's a bus or something. You can come with me."

"And the others?" Ulfur asked, falling into step with me as I started to pick my way down the rocky hillside to the fishing village below.

"I told you—they're back in town. I think. I didn't actually see them when I left them, but that could be because Anniki had the stone."

"No, I meant the others here." He waved toward the shore.

I cautiously moved over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. Along the craggy shoreline, a group of about twelve ghosts roamed aimlessly. They looked up as I stood staring down in increasing despair. More ghosts. Just what I needed to complicate things.

"This is the reaper," Ulfur bellowed down to them.

They waved.

I lifted a wan hand and waved back.

"You're all ghosts?" I asked Ulfur.

He nodded and patted his horse's head. "Landslide. Wiped out half the village. I had been in college in Reykjavik but came home for my father's birthday."